To Raise a Thief
by Auburn Red
Summary: This is the story of Lupin III's upbringing and his relationship with his parents and particularly, his grandpa, Lupin I.


**To Raise a Thief **

By Auburn Red

Disclaimer: I created Midori Lupin, Inspector Kenji Zenigata, Thomas LeGrande, and Joseph. Arsene Lupin I belongs to Maurice LeBlanc. Arsene Lupin III and Sgt, soon-to-be Inspector Zenigata belong to Monkey Punch. Arsene Lupin II, AKA Jean was partly created by Maurice LeBlanc but I added a few things to his character such as his changing his name to Lupin II. I don't know if Lupin's mom or dad were discussed in the manga, since I am only familiar with the anime and Castle of Cagliostro but this is my own interpretation to the little guy's upbringing.

Author's Note: Since many of the characters names are so similar, a couple you know rather well, I have adopted different names for characters. Just so no one gets confused, Arsene Lupin will be referred to mostly as Lupin. Arsene Lupin II, will be either referred to for a time as Arsene or his original name, Jean. As a child, Lupin III will be called by his family nickname, Trois, and later as Arsene. The elder Inspector Zenigata, will be referred to by his title or just Zenigata. Sgt. Zenigata will be referred to by his title or his first name, Koichi. Just thought I would let you know, before confusion and repetition sink in. Oh and to keep things uniform I am putting first and family names the English way first name first family name last, I know I will get crucified for this but it's my first published anime fanfic and I don't speak or understand Japanese that well so cut me a break.

Chapter One: A Full House

The elderly man opened one sleepy brown eye to the Fiat that had pulled into the long driveway. He took out his small eyeglasses to gain a closer look. There was a time when the glasses were purely ornamental, not anymore. He tensed feeling his whole body grow instinctively suspicious until he saw the three figures emerging the car and approaching the large chateau. Well two figures walked, one bounced. Arsene Lupin's expression turned from suspicion to affection, especially when the smallest figure leaped into Lupin's arms and embraced him gripping his spider monkey-like arms around his neck. "Gramps!", Arsene Lupin III called to his beloved grandfather.

Lupin laughed and tried to pick his 8-year-old grandson up, but only lifted him a few feet from the ground. "Bonjour, Trois, you seem well," he said jovially. "You are getting very big, non?"

Arsene Lupin III, called Trois, Three, by his family began chattering excitedly about the places that he had gone to with his parents. While listening to his grandson, Lupin watched his son and daughter-in-law approach the chateau. He held up a finger to silence his young grandson to greet the rest of his family. "Jean, Midori," he said slightly with a cool expression especially upon Midori's name.

"Papan," Arsene Lupin II, referred to as Jean by his family, replied. Midori nodded, involuntarily holding the large portfolio that she carried closer to her body.

"This is a surprise," Lupin said grandly. "Would you three like to come inside to have a drink?" Trois nodded enthusiastically, but his parents exchanged an argumentative glance. Midori fixed her husband a look and shook her head. Jean gave a slight nod, then motioned indoors.

"It is not exactly a difficult question, come inside or non," Lupin said wryly confused by their wordless argument.

Midori sighed and waved her hand. "Alright," Jean replied. "We shall enter."

Lupin waved his hand inside and bade the small family to enter his fine home.

While the four Lupins talked and drank, Lupin examined his son, grandson, and daughter-in-law. They were a study in contrasts, particularly the father and son. Trois was energetic and easily excitable. His thin body seemed to naturally not show much of a chance of gaining weight and his wide grin and dancing eyes gave him a deceptively comic expression. His narrow face and his long nose were characteristic of the Lupin family but his slight yellowish skin and the shape of his eyes, plus his tendency to slip into Japanese when he got excited, showed his half-Japanese origins. His loud red jacket and trousers showed him as already showing signs of being something of a dandy when he was older. Everything that Trois did was just pure energy and seemed to say "Look at me, listen to me!" But despite that, there was an observance and intelligence about the boy that showed promise to be as great a thief as his father and grandfather were.

While Trois, often thrived on others' attention, his father preferred to stay silent. Not that he didn't have his moments of friendliness or affection, especially towards his wife, son, and father. But, he could be a hard-edged man and was as choleric as Lupin was sanguine. While the narrow features on Trois gave him a comic expression, and Lupin an elegant sophistication, on Jean they were more hawk-like and predatory. His clothing style was more reminiscent of an American gangster or hit man, with his dark overcoat and black fedora. Sometimes, on occasion besides his career as a thief, he was called to serve as an assassin and was quite good at his job. His graying hair and lines around his eyes showed him to be well into middle age.

Lupin always suspected that his son's darker temper was due to his upbringing. As an infant, Jean had been kidnapped from his family's home after his mother's death in childbirth. He spent 20 years never knowing his real father, though they later reunited. Over time, the young man became close to his father even adopting the name Arsene Lupin II, out of family loyalty (though his father and later his wife often referred to him by his given name of Jean). But there was still at times an inherent disagreement and sometimes mistrust between them.

While Jean had a temper that could explode, Midori was quieter and sneakier. She was at least two feet shorter than Jean. Her porcelain skin and small features gave her a beautiful China doll expression. Her long silky black hair was tied into a tight ponytail that tied down to her waist and her black tight pants and top held to her thin body. She was a almost 20 years younger than her husband, and her delicate features gave the impression that she was fragile and vulnerable, but she wasn't not really.

There was a time when Lupin did not get along with his daughter-in-law, okay he freely admitted there were still times that he didn't get along with his daughter-in-law but he didn't hold her in as much suspicion as he did once. He believed that the then-19 year-old young thief was taking advantage of his son and was scheming against him while she began her career as a thief and art forger. Though it was partly true, the clever young woman and head-strong man had developed their professional rivalry into a deep love affair and a happy marriage.

If Lupin could look at himself, he would see a man who was dressed in a sophisticated elegant evening suit, and whose hair has long grown white, whose face was completely lined, but with eyes that still carried an exuberance especially when memories of the old days were concerned. At pushing 70, his movements weren't as swift and his memory wasn't as clear as it once was, but he still had a sly outlook on life and still could have as much fun as the youngest of them like the time when he was aware a former much younger girlfriend was plotting against him. He not only deprived the girl of her virginity and her money but plotted to have her arrested as well. He still had it, where it counted. He also enjoyed the benefits from a life of thieving such as the fine chateau, an exciting career to look back upon, and a loyal family who carried on the family tradition.

Lupin listened as Trois rattled on and on, about his parent's latest caper. Lupin noticed as the boy talked, his parents were getting more and more uncomfortable as if they had something to hide. "So anyway, Mama nearly got caught by this guy named Zimaga- uh Zanygad- uh anyway I called him 'Pops!' So Papan helped spring her out-!

:"Trois," Midori corrected her son sharply. They boy was silent, but he could see the slightly amused expression on his mother's face. "That is enough."

"Mon fils,'" Jean said calling Trois 'my son'. "We need to speak to your grandfather alone. Can you give us a moment?"

Trois' face turned from energetic to serious. Sometimes his parents treated him like an adult and an equal partner, other times they treated him like the impressionable child that he was. He made a face. "I bet I know what it's about."

Lupin turned to his grandson. "Trois, why don't you go into that hovel that I once showed you and you can look at all of my old treasures?"

Trois glared then stomped upstairs fuming about how unfair adults were and they treated him like a little kid. The three adults waited until the boy's footsteps died down and

he was no longer visible.

Jean and Midori glanced at each other and nodded. Lupin waited until she took out her portfolio and opened it. "I take it that you are not here to tell me of Midori's career as an artist."

"Not quite," Midori replied. "We have a plan for tonight." Lupin looked closely at the paintings the dark colors, the recognizable Dutch art could only mean one thing. "You are paying a visit to the Vermeer exhibit."

Jean nodded. "I stole two guards' uniforms this morning and we are planning on sneaking in during the guard exchange between midnight and one. We will take the forgeries there and replace them with the real ones."

"I see," Lupin nodded. "It sounds reasonable. If I were 40 years younger I would accompany you."

"I think we can handle this ourselves," Jean answered shortly.

Midori cleared her throat. " We do have a favor to ask, because we are on a tight schedule we were wondering if you-"

"-If I could watch Trois for you," Lupin guessed.

"We would ask our friends John and Francie Robie, but they are in hiding," Jean said.

"Very well, but make sure that you return for him," Lupin answered.

"Of course," Jean said. "We make the exchange, get the paintings, get our son, collect the money, then we are gone in luxury."

"very well," Lupin said. "Now what is that other part, the one that you didn't want Tois to mention."

The husband and wife exchanged yet another look.. "Well out with it," Lupin demanded treating them like errant children.

"What he said is true," Jean replied, "We well Midori was almost caught by Interpol."

"It was nothing," she said. "While sneaking on board a train, they noticed some oddities with one of my passports and they had the opportunity to call Interpol."

"Including this 'Pops' that Trois spoke of," Lupin guessed.

"Inspector Kenji Zenigata," Jean replied.

Lupin shook his head. "That name sounds vaguely familiar."

Midori nodded. "The Zenigatas are a family of detectives dating back to the Warring States era. The last people I would ever have wanted to deal with. I am probably high on their things-to-do-people-to-arrest list. Now Jean and possibly you are as well."

"We wouldn't even try this Vermeer robbery except we need to flee the country immediately," Jean agreed.

"I could loan the money to you," Lupin offered.

Jean smiled a wolfish grin, the Lupin-family grin. "Papan, you know me as well as you know yourself, where would be the fun in that?"

Sgt. Koichi Zenigata tried to stay awake on the long train ride by reading up on the case file of Arsene Lupin II and his wife, Midori Lupin nee Masahashi. He listened to his father, Inspector Kenji Zenigata, rant about trying to capture the Lupin family while reading about this treacherous husband and wife team of thieves. This was his first major case for Interpol and the young police officer was eager to climb the ranks and bust this burglary ring wide open. It would mean promotion and a reputation as one of Interpol's finest police officers. It would also mean that he could step out from his father's shadow and be his own man. Koichi was getting married at the end of the summer it will be very exciting for Ami and he to be Inspector and Mrs. Zenigata. He could imagine it now "Inspector Koichi and his lovely wife Mrs. Zenigata were greeted by the Prime Minister today..." "Another great case solved by Inspector Koichi Zenigata! "Inspector Zenigata saved our lives, our hero!"

The elder Zenigata's ranting broke into the young 28-year-old sergeant's reverie. "We had them under our grasp and what happens? A future ex-detective lets them get away!" Koichi nodded remembering Ulrich Wolfsen, a German recruit who had been in charge of guarding Midori Lupin but only succeeded in her flirting with him and Arsene knocking him senseless. The poor recruit will now be heading for the unemployment line, Koichi, thought. Unlike, his son who was dressed in a clean pressed uniform, Kenji tended to favor a more rumpled look wearing a dirty off-yellow overcoat and fedora. His sleepless nights going after the couple were beginning to show on his unshaven face and red-rimmed eyes unlike his son who was clean shaven and well dressed. "Those two keep eluding our grasp. He is about as slippery as his father, but no matter we will catch them!"

Koichi turned back to his files not wanting to respond with something like "And this would be different from the last 20 times how?" "That is the beauty nothing more than a passport violation and we were almost able to bring down a master criminal! What happens they escape once again!" Zenigata ranted once more banging his fist on the train window.

Koichi nodded but remained silent. Sometimes it was easier to just let his father rant. He truly loved his father, in fact when he was a child, the elder Zenigata was his standard the man he wanted to be like. But there were some things that he didn't care for. As a child, he and his mother never liked the fact that he was never home and since working for him, Koichi had seen a fine analytical mind and a toughness that most people would make most people cringe in fear, but he also saw an obsessive streak when he went after a criminal that bordered on fanaticism. Someone who was so driven to chase them that he would never be satisfied until he caught them. Koichi sighed thinking about his fiancée back in Tokyo and hoped that he would never be like that.

He turned back to the files and looked at the couple. Lupin II, aged 48, came from a family of criminals. His father, Arsene Lupin I was a well known criminal and burglar, but aside from a short jail time he was never officially caught. Now he was more or less living in luxury in the French Riviera, though many knew of Lupin's criminal career he was almost never caught and there was never any evidence against him. It looked like his son also had the criminal history down as well. Several counts of burglary, two of attempted murder, and there were even possibilities that he was responsible for the deaths of a few businessmen and political leaders. What an impressive record in a matter of speaking, Koichi thought.

His wife, Midori, on the other hand was equally impressive and Koichi admitted to himself very attractive. She was the type of woman that he would look at more than once on the street. A former prostitute in the red light district of Tokyo, she had a talent for imitating the best artists becoming a successful art forger. At 29, she was at the top of her game in the art theft world and it appeared aided her husband in many of their robberies. She was wanted in various countries on multiple counts of forgeries, breaking and entering, and apparently still was up to her old tricks, because there were at least three counts of prostitution. Koichi looked closer at the couple. They seemed like intelligent attractive people why would anyone choose a life such as this? His eyes glanced over Midori's file going through medical records, most of it scattered, but one word caught his eye, "Pregnancy? They had a child?"

" 'Have a child'", Zenigata corrected. "A little ragamuffin son, from what I can tell! The brat ran up to me as I was arresting his mother and kicked me calling me 'Pops!"

Koichi bit back a laugh at the nickname. "Cute kid," he muttered.

"What was that?" Zenigata demanded.

Koichi cleared his throat. "How old is the kid?"

"Looked about 8 or so," Zenigata replied.

Koichi clicked his tongue in sympathy thinking about such a young boy in the presence of people who were bad influences, on the other hand they were his parents. No matter if it ended in their deaths or arrest the boy would be bereft of his parents. Koichi

wondered how he would have felt if he lost either of his parents at a young age. He couldn't imagine what it would have been like to lose his loving mother and his tough, but distant father. He couldn't imagine it. "What will happen to the boy?" Koichi asked.

Zenigata shrugged. "Who knows? If he has relatives they will take him in, if not perhaps an orphanage. Maybe they will set him right." As if reading his thoughts, Zenigata snapped. "Don't get too sentimental. We have a job to do and we are going to do it."

Koichi nodded. "Understood." They were going to do it, Koichi was going to catch them, and he was going to be an Inspector at Interpol no matter what it took. He did not allow himself to think of the Lupin boy again.

Jean, Lupin, and Midori stood outside Lupin's chateau as Midori and Jean packed their tools into the Fiat and embraced Lupin. "Is Trois upstairs?" Jean asked.

Midori nodded. "Yes, I looked in on him right before we left."

"If we are successful we will come as soon as the robbery is over, so-"

"-I will get Trois ready," Lupin replied "Be careful. I wouldn't want you to get caught, even Midori."

"Well at least I would be able to outrun my pursuers," Midori said wryly. Jean gave a slight grin at his father and wife's bickering, but cleared his throat.

"We will be careful, Papan you know what a cautious fellow I am," Jean said showing his father his Walther P38 before he snuck it into his pocket.

Lupin watched as his son and daughter-in-law entered their car and gave a slight wave of good-bye. Though he hadn't been a praying man since he was young, he gave a slight prayer to the Virgin Mary and any other Saints who were listening to watch over them.

When he could no longer see his family, he walked into his house. The building was empty and dark. He felt an odd feeling that though his grandson should have been there, Lupin was very much alone. He heard his footsteps echo as he walked up the cavernous steps. He hobbled down the wide hallway until he came to the oak door of his guest room. He knocked softly, "Trois?" he called. No answer. He slowly opened the door hearing the creak on the hinges. He peeked inside to see his young grandson asleep soundly bundled up under the covers. Lupin's eyes narrowed. In fact Lupin III was too still. He hobbled into the room and flung the covers off the bed.

The pile of pillows and sheets underneath the red jacket confirmed the elderly thief's suspicions. He thought about calling for the boy, or searching for him, but he sighed. He knew exactly where that boy was going.

Midori consulted the map as her husband drove. "The museum is 45 minutes from here to the right." She said.

"Great," a small voice piped up from the backseat causing both adults to jump with surprise. "I can't wait to see it!"

Hearing his son's voice, Jean pulled over to the side of the country road bringing their car to a stop. Trois was dressed in a black suit like his parent's as though he was also ready to break into the museum. He pulled open the door and yanked Trois out causing the boy to give a slight scream of pain from his father's hard grip. "What are you doing here?" Jean asked shaking him hard. "Didn't we tell you to stay with your grandfather? Does he even know you're here?"

"If he doesn't then he isn't a very good thief," Trois joked innocently. His father's glare told him now wasn't the time to make such comments. "It looked like fun and I thought I could help."

Jean grabbed his son by the arm. "I'm taking you back to your grandfather!"

"We don't have time," Midori reminded him glancing at her watch.

Jean sighed in annoyance. "Fine, we don't have any choice. You may come with us, but you do what we say and you don't draw attention to yourself, understand?"

"Understood," Trois said.

"Good, now get back in the car," Jean replied.

Trois obeyed his father and glanced over at his mother. "Now that might have been awkward, at least I'm not in trouble."

Midori smiled ruefully. "Oh you're still in trouble, just wait until this job is done." Trois gulped.

Inspector and Sergeant Zenigata drove to the direction of La Musee De Dumas. "What makes you think that they would come here?" Koichi asked.

"The Vermeer exhibit," Zenigata replied. "It would be a perfect scheme for a thief and an art forger. Neither of them could resist it, plus after that encounter with Interpol they would want to do something low risk that will get them out of the country."

The car pulled over into the driveway. Security lights were on and two guards were posted right outside the museum. Koichi glanced at his watch. 11:35 pm. There didn't seem to be anything outside apart from the usual hum of a museum after closing hours. "What happens now?" he asked.

"Now we wait," Zenigata replied keeping his eyes on the darkness. Koichi looked for any suspicious activity feeling his mind wander occasionally to Ami.

Trois' eyes widened as his father pulled over to the back of the museum far from the main parking lot. "A few more cars than I would like to see", Jean said. He pulled over in a far-off road as the three opened the door. "Thanks to our new accomplice," he glared at Trois' direction. "There has been a slight change in plans. I will go in the guard's uniform. Mi, can you sneak around the backroom where the exhibit is?"

Midori nodded as though it were a stupid question. "How well do you know me?" she asked. "I will take Trois with me, maybe he can hold our tools."

Dressed in the security guards' uniform, Jean, put on the hat. "How do I look?"

Midori smiled lavisciously. "I do love a man in uniform," she joked.

Trois nodded. "You look like one of the guards, except when we drove by, I saw their clubs were on the left side."

Jean looked down in surprise. Sure enough the holster was on the right side. "Oh, thank you, Trois. That was very observant." He marveled at his son's attention to detail. He replaced the holster, ruffled the boy's hair, and kissed his wife on the lips. "In freedom or in prison," he whispered their familiar vow that they said before each robbery.

" I'm yours in both," she answered. Trois closed his eyes at his parent's mushiness. Midori and Trois waited as Jean walked up the road and joined the other guards in the exchange in guard detail.

Jean waited patiently as the security guard scanned his I.D. at the front door: Maurice Rochambeau. The head guard nodded as Jean entered. The thief walked in slowing his pace and kept his eyes forward like any other guard would look.

He glanced upstairs at the room where the Vermeer exhibit would be. "Hey where you going?" a drowsy voice asked. Jean jumped but turned to see a sleepy-eyed guard glancing at him.

Jean rolled his eyes pretending to be annoyed. He was used to this type of interruption. "Oh my slave driver boss wants me to guard the Vermeer paintings."He pointed to the room upstairs on the right.

Despite the other man's fatigue, he gave a humorous grin. "Yeah well, that's how he is. Good luck with that. Enjoy yourself."

"I intend to," Jean thought to himself as the other man walked away. He walked upstairs into the Vermeer room taking out the security plans that his wife drew. He casually strolled to the small strong box and used his identification card to open it. He pulled a small lever shutting off the infrared alarm. He whistled a Frank Sinatra tune as he casually strolled over to the far-off window and opened it feeling the cool breeze filling him.

From the ground, Midori waited as Jean waved at them from the top floor. She nodded then opened the portfolio selecting one of her paintings. She expertly tied it around a rope then waved at her husband to bring it up. Together they were able to send the painting by rope into the second story window. Jean picked it up then disappeared for a moment into the room. He emerged later waiting.

"Trois when I give you the signal, I want you to send the other paintings up just like I showed you." Trois nodded as his mother wrapped the rope around her slender waist then repelled all the way up the museum exterior. She gently forced her foot up the stone masonry as she moved up. She arrived at the second story window. Jean helped her off the window and untied the rope around her leading her into the gallery. She handed her husband another counterfeit painting as he tied a real one around the rope sending it down below. He watched as Trois expertly moved the rope down then untie the painting and place it inside the portfolio sending another counterfeit in its place.

"The boy is a natural," he said.

"He is like his father," Midori agreed. They continued to work as they talked quietly. "This is about as easy as that time in Monte Carlo," Jean said.

"I remember," Midori said. "Of course it is easy to steal from a banker who is too intoxicated to remember his name."

"On the other hand, this is nothing like that gold shipment in Puerto Rico," Jean teased.

Midori's mouth dropped open in shock as she sent down another painting. "Well I am sorry but I was distracted at the time, just discovering that I was pregnant and all.

How many do we have?"

"Five," he said. "I suppose that will do for now. Le Grande had better be-"But that was as far as he got when they heard footsteps and saw the sleepy-eyed guard approach the room. He instantly saw Jean. "What are you doing?" Then suddenly his eyes perked up and he was awake. He then pulled out his intercom and called. "We have a robbery in progress. Repeat-" But that was as far as he got when Jean pulled out his gun and shot the man. He grabbed his wife's hand and the last painting. "Let's go!" he yelled. He forced Midori down the rope and he followed after them.

The alarm resounded from outside and the Zenigatas jumped in alarm. "Out!" Inspector Zenigata yelled. The police officers joined the security guard running outside to find the criminals.

"O-tisan, there they are!" Koichi called his father. He pointed to a man, a boy, and a woman running.

"I was afraid of this, Interpol!" Inspector Zenigata yelled. "LUPIN YOU AND YOUR WIFE ARE UNDER ARREST!"

Midori reached into her pocket to take out a small derringer and aim it at the police officer. Unfortunately, she didn't have the chance to use it. A shot rang out from Inspector Zenigata's gun. Midori gave a small scream, dropped Trois' hand, and fell slumped on the ground. "Mama!" Trois yelled. The voice caused Jean to turn around and see his wife lying on the ground. "Mi," he called leaning over to put his hands on her. It took a split second, but the whistle of police officer's and his son's surprised sobbing pulled him out of his thoughts. He seized the moment and grabbed the portfolio and Trois and they ran in the woods. "Go!" he yelled. "You know where Grandpa lives? I want you to go there!" Trois nodded still crying that caused Jean to shake him harder trying as much for his own benefit to hide his own impending grief. He pointed towards the museum. "Don't go that way! Look over there! Run into the woods, keep running! Keep going until you reach your grandfather. He will know what to do! Go now!"

"Papan," Trois said feeling fresh tears come to his eyes. But Jean pushed him far from him. "Go now!" he yelled.

Arsene Lupin II waited until his son had disappeared into the woods, portfolio in hand. "Good-bye mon fils," he whispered. Then he cocked his Walther P38 and ran out to the approaching police officers ready to take on as many of them as he could.

Sgt. Zenigata leaned over Midori Lupin. He felt her pulse. "Dead," he shook his head.

"It was in self-defense," Zenigata replied. "She had a gun."

"Of course," Koichi said. He felt a lump in his throat thinking once more of the Lupin boy who was now without a mother. A few of the security guards ran up to the woods when a low guttural scream broke through. A man that Koichi knew from his picture was Arsene Lupin II screamed out of the woods firing his gun like a mad man. He fired at a few of the guards shooting them in a blind rage. He aimed at Inspector Zenigata and was just about to fire at him too, when Koichi took his gun and shot at the thief pomt blank. "Are you alright, Father?" Koichi asked the elder Zenigata.

Zenigata nodded. "Yes of course, thank you son. Is he dead?"

Koichi leaned over and felt his pulse and nodded. "He is with his wife now."

In the woods, Trois covered his ears to block out the sounds of gunshots. Part of him wanted to run to his father to see what was going on. Another wanted to obey him and run to his grandfather. He stood up and was about to head to the museum when he remembered his father's orders not to go that way. He thought he could hear him order him to run, so he did what he had to: He ran.

Lupin had nodded off in his armchair when the loud knock echoed through the sitting room. He had figured since Trois was with his parents there was no point in worrying about him now but the knock invited possible scenarios in his mind and none were good. The elderly thief took out his pocket watch and glanced at the time 5:00 in the morning. It definitely wasn't good. Lupin felt an ice-cold feeling enter his chest as he walked to the front door and the frantic knocking.

"Gramps! Gramps!", Lupin warily opened the door to see Trois standing at the door holding his mother's portfolio with a stricken pale look on his face. The boy's face was ashen and dirty. His lower lip quivered and he was out of breath. There were tears in his eyes and he stammered as he spoke. He didn't have to say anything. "Oh no, Trois,": Lupin said quietly.

"Mama and Papan- they -at the museum-", That was as far as he got when he fell over into a fit of sobbing. Lupin pulled the boy closer to him and gave him a quick embrace.

After only a few seconds, Lupin pulled the boy and looked into his eyes. "Did you run here? Were you followed?"

"I don't know," Trois said. "I don't think so."

Lupin paced back and forth. "That isn't good enough. We can't be sure that you weren't. Do you have the real Vermeer's?"

Trois nodded. "Papan gave them to me. "He held the portfolio up for his father to see.

"There must be someone that we can unload these to," Lupin said aloud. "Someone who can furnish us with the proper identification to leave. Did your parents ever speak of a buyer or a dealer?"

"Yes they did," Trois wiped his tears. "A couple of times, Mama or Papan talked on the phone to a guy named Le Grande."

"I know of him," Lupin nodded. "Thomas LeGrande the art dealer. He lives in Paris. We'll have to leave right away. Gather only a few things. We are leaving for Paris right now."

Trois gasped and started crying again. "But shouldn't we get Mama and Papan or bury them! I want to kill those police officers! They shouldn't have had to die!" That was as far as he got when the top of Lupin's cane clipped the boy on the ear.

"No, they shouldn't have had to die, but they did and we are going to get away," Lupin said in a quiet voice that was more fierce and scarier than any of Trois's father's rages. He looked right into his grandson's eyes. "You listen to me, you will have the rest of your life to grieve for them. But this requires stealth, concentration, and no stopping for any outbursts or weakness! Your parents died so you can escape, and you are going to. If you cannot handle that, then I will abandon you here and leave you at the mercy of the police, do you understand?" Trois nodded and stood up giving his grandfather the portfolio. Lupin lay his hand on the boy's shoulder as he glanced up at him with the same curious expression, Jean's expression. Lupin bit back any feelings of sadness that he himself was going to feel remembering the words that he told his grandson. He cleared his throat."Pack only what you can carry in a small bag, I do not know when we are returning."

Thomas LeGrande drained a glass of Dom Perignon and smoked a cigarette. It was a little early in the morning for either, but the morning's paper caught his interest and made him nervous. He grumbled at the headline: ROBBERY ATTEMPT AT MUSEUM! ROBBERS SHOT TRYING TO ESCAPE.

The art dealer pounded an angry fist on the table. "What the hell is the matter with them," he asked his valet and bodyguard, Joseph rhetorically. "They were supposed to do one simple job and what happens they screw it up!" He continued to read the highlights or rather lowlights of the previous night."-though local police and Interpol are reluctant to identify the deceased, they are believed to be Arsene and Midori Lupin, a husband-and-wife team of thieves." He drummed his fingers on the paper. "Yes probably with my name and number on a card and carrying guns. How could they have been so stupid?"

LeGrande was so angry that he would have thrown something except most of the items were priceless antiques, mostly stolen, and a part of his private collection. Instead he just satisfied his anger by pounding on the oak table again.

The front doorbell rang causing LeGrande to get even more annoyed. "Go see who it is," he commanded not really in the mood for visitors.

Joseph bowed low and left the sitting room. He returned a few minutes later with a puzzled confused look on his face. "Arsene Lupin is at the door." LeGrande's mouth dropped open and he knew that he was as surprised as Joseph looked. Any other person and LeGrande would have suspected a prank or a scheme to betray him. But not Joseph. He bought the Algerian fair and square from a group of arms dealers after the man saved his life during the War. He was extremely loyal, a good shot and fighter when things got ugly, and also shared the same eye and appreciation for fine art that his employer did. LeGrande knew with Joseph, he had his money's worth and he trusted him implicitly. "Send him in," he said retaining his cool.

Both Arsene Lupins waited outside for the servant to admit them. Lupin placed his hand on his grandson's shoulder. "I do not know how much LeGrande knows, so don't say anything about your mother and father." Arsene nodded and, but Lupin held him back. "And it goes without saying not to mention anything about the robbery." Arsene was about to add something when his father spoke again. "And don't say anything about the Zenigatas. In fact, it's better if you don't say anything at all."

Arsene pouted at his grandfather and fought back an urge to stick his tongue out at him. This wasn't a time to act like a kid, he thought, act like a grown-up. The door opened and the large muscular black man looked down at them baring his sharp white teeth at the two visitors.

"Monsieur LeGrande will see you now," Joseph said. He led the small family into the fancy apartment up to the penthouse. They walked through the hallway seeing so many paintings and sculptures that the LeGrande home could have been a museum, many of them by famous artists. Lupin was impressed by this collection nodding casually at the items before him. Arsene casually strolled by occasionally picking up a small item and placing it in his pocket. He picked up a tiny glass box, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. The boy looked up to see Joseph glaring at him with a furious grimace. "I would ask that you return that box and the other-" he counted the items in the boy's pockets "-four items that you stole." Arsene smiled sheepishly, but after glancing at his grandfather's narrowed angry stare, he took out the small items and placed them on the table.

Joseph took out a key and unlocked the main padlocks. "Monsieur LeGrande is inside. Go ahead and enter."

The grandfather and grandson walked into the sitting room to see a man of about 35 looking up from his newspaper at his two intruders. He had a pale face that almost bordered on albinism. His features were almost marble in their angular shape and lack of expression. His white hair was neatly thinned and shorn, more out of choice than natural. He glanced at them with clear blue eyes that noticed everything and ignored nothing. He had rings on three of his left fingers and two hoop earrings dangled from his right ear.

"You're late," he accused.

"Nonsense," Lupin replied. "We are right on time."

"You're later than I like," LeGrande took out a cigarette, then waved at the Lupins to sit. "And unless Lupin or his wife had been through some trauma that aged them considerably in the past 48 hours, I don't think you are either of them."

"I am sorry," Lupin said evenly. "Monsieur and Madame Lupin were unavoidably detained. They sent me in their stead."

"Unavoidably detained," LeGrande said humoring them with a slight laugh. "And your little associate?" He pointed at Arsene.

"It was a last minute decision," Lupin said. "But don't be fooled. He is a lot older than he looks."

Le Grande stood up and paced. "Do you have the paintings?" Lupin walked up to the art dealer and handed LeGrande the portfolio. The art dealer opened it and inspected each painting with his accurate eye. "Real, real, hmm," He looked up. "It's a very impressive collection. Too bad I can't give you anything for it."

"What?" Arsene said practically shouting. Lupin grabbed his young grandson by the shoulders and pulled him back down.

"May I ask why not?" Lupin asked as evenly as he could.

"Suddenly, the merchandise has become rather hot wouldn't you say?" He held out the newspaper and his two visitors looked at the headline. Arsene let out a small gasp, but bit his lip to avoid crying out. Act like a grown-up, he thought frantically. From underneath the table he reached for Lupin's hand and gripped it so hard that his knuckles turned white. Lupin instinctively lay his other hand on top of Arsene's in a gesture of comfort.

"I suppose they are very 'unavoidably detained'," LeGrande mocked. "What could you possibly ask for these?"

"We want $50 million francs 10 for each painting and identification to leave the country for myself and my young associate," Lupin said.

LeGrande looked at Joseph for a minute in silence and the two burst out laughing. "You must be insane, Old Man, you will get nothing from me." So saying, he slipped the paintings over to Lupin but Lupin stopped them with one hand. Arsene spoke, with an authoritarian voice that surprised LeGrande, Joseph, and Lupin. "I think you will," he said.

"What was that?" LeGrande asked amused.

Arsene continued. "I think that you will buy the paintings. You have no choice now, but to buy them. We might have been seen coming in. It wouldn't be too hard to trace my- Monsieur and Madame Lupin's phone records to you. Besides the article only says that it was a robbery attempt. They left forgeries and those take time for them to discover that they are fakes. By then the paintings will be safe and snug in your collection."

There was silence before LeGrande once again burst out laughing. "Clever kid," he said standing up as if to show the Lupins the door. "But not clever enough You will have to take your business elsewhere. I refuse to do business with a smart mouth kid and a senile old fool." But that was as far as he got when Lupin grabbed the art dealer by the wrist and knocked him to the ground. In a fury, Joseph reached for his gun but Lupin kicked at the bodyguard's hand sending the gun to the ground. Then he punched Joseph in the stomach knocking him flat.

"What I told your valet was true," Lupin said through gritted teeth. "I AM Arsene Lupin, Arsene Lupin the First." Despite his pained expression, LeGrande's eyes widened in recognition. Arsene Lupin was a legend in the underworld. One of the reasons that LeGrande dealt with Arsene II was because of his father's reputation."I see that you have heard of me and I will not tolerate any bad behavior towards myself or my let's hear the right answer." The defeated look in the art dealer's eyes told Lupin everything.

Arsene and Lupin stood outside LeGrande's apartment and hugged each other smiling. In Lupin's briefcase was the $50 million. "Gramps you are so cool," Arsene grinned.

Lupin looked down seriously. "Yes, but not 'cool' enough. I should never have revealed my name to LeGrande. I would never have made that mistake in my prime! I am feeling my age." He shrugged glancing at the paperwork in his hands. "No matter I still have the foresight not to give your name or relation and to request that he give us at least five identifications, so he, nor the police will know which ones we are using!" He took his grandson's hand. "Come, Arsene. We must get into our costumes before we take the train."

"What are we going to be, Grandpa?" Arsene asked.

Lupin tilted the boy's chin up. "We will think of something."

Two hours later, LeGrande was still putting ice on his injured wrist. He rolled his eyes at the doorbell. The second interruption today. "Go see who it is," he snapped at Joseph. He was definitely in no mood for company.

Joseph reentered. "A Sergeant Koichi Zenigata of Interpol to see you."

Despite the pain in his wrist, LeGrande reached ouf for his gold cigarette case and lit another cigarette. "It must be my day for visitors" He said. "Send him in."

Joseph returned a few minutes later with a more rumpled looking Sgt. Zenigata from the night before. It had been a tedious night and early morning getting the names of various art dealers and buyers. His father had figured that the robbery wasn't an attempt at all, but a successful robbery, and the paintings that were left were forgeries. Zenigata glanced at Joseph knowing that he had seen him before and where he had seen him. The servant returned his glance with a snarl.

"What happened to you?" Koichi asked pointing at the man's swollen wrist.

"Tennis injury," LeGrande winced. "And you are-?"

"Monsieur Le Grande, Sgt. Zenigata, Interpol," he showed him his badge.

LeGrande looked at the badge unimpressed. "And that means what to me?"

"I am sure you are no doubt aware of the Vermeer robbery at La Musee De Dumas last night?", Koichi began.

Le Grande shrugged. What he said was, "I might have heard something about it." What he thought was. "Your French pronunciation is terrible."

"The press is saying that the robbery was an attempt, but we have reason to believe that the Vermeer's were fakes and that the real ones are still at large," Zenigata said.

LeGrande nodded and waved his hand around the room. "You are free to search this area but they are not here." He gave silent thanks that Joseph had sent the Vermeers to his other private collection in his apartment in the Left Bank.

The Interpol officer spoke again. "We chatted with some of the local dealers and you're name came up often as one who deals with antiquities with shall we say a 'colorful history'."

LeGrande glared at him, his icy eyes getting icier every minute. "So what? I am an art dealer there is nothing illegal in that."

"Unless the items were stolen," Zenigata replied. "You see, I believe that the paintings were stolen and thanks to Midori Lupin's unusual talent, they were able to leave forgeries. Now we don't know where the missing Vermeers are, and since the Lupins are dead we were led to believe that that secret would be buried forever. But see I believe there is a third party, an unidentified accomplice, if you will that knows that sold you the Vermeers and you know their names."

The dealer smiled. "Even if I could give you the names, what would it be worth to you? Not that you could possibly have anything I want."

Koichi smiled. This was the trump card he had been dying to play since he walked into this fancy apartment. "I do have something, your servant."

Both Joseph and LeGrande exchanged confused shocked glances. Zenigata continued. "There are outstanding warrants all over the North African countries for Joseph Thibodaux on various counts of arms dealing and robberies. A couple on murder. With one phone call he could be extradited to any of those countries. Now you can imagine what those prisons would be like to someone who escaped from them possibly by the charity of a wealthy patron."

The art dealer took a long drag from his cigarette. He didn't have to imagine. He knew what those prisons were like and knew what they would do to Joseph. He glanced at his servant, but there was no expression on his face. When Thomas LeGrande spoke the next time, he didn't recognize his own voice, it was so hoarse and quiet. "Arsene Lupin," he said quietly. "The third party's name is Arsene Lupin, the other Lupin's father."

Koichi pushed past the crowds of people scanning each face for Arsene Lupin the First and the boy. He called his father over and explained his findings. "LeGrande wouldn't give me the name of the boy. I don't think that he knew it, but he did give me a description of both." He showed Zenigata the drawings that the dealer made of the two visitors.

"The boy must be the Lupins' son," Zenigata replied. "Still harbor any sentiments for him?"

Koichi shrugged not acknowledging his father's callousness. Frankly, he wanted to put the whole things behind him, but they still had a job to do and now it was to find the remaining Lupins."Where should we look?"

"Look for any passengers who fit the description of an elderly man and a young mixed-race boy. They have to be somewhere, but watch out they or at least Lupin the Elder is a master of disguise. Hurry back."

Koichi nodded and walked on the train as it rested in the station. He glanced over at various passengers checking each one. He asked if they had seen the man or the boy in the picture, but the answer was always a definite no. Koichi cursed under his breath, "Crap, crap, crap!" he muttered. He crossed his arms annoyed but then looked to the left to see an elderly man and a boy heading for a private car. The Interpol agent gave a little amused laugh and followed them. He trailed after them walking down the narrow corridor to the private area. He waited until the boy was about to walk into the private room when Koichi reached over and grabbed the boy by the leg. The boy howled in pain. "Granddad!" he called in a high pitched British accent.

The boy and his grandfather turned around and Koichi could clearly see that he was wrong. The boy was chubbier, with fairer hair, and a rounder build than the Lupin boy has. The elderly man was overweight and his white mustache showed him to be a far cry from the clean-shaven elderly thief. "What are you doing to my grandson?" the man commanded.

"I'm sorry," Koichi stammered. "I thought you were someone else. I am a police officer looking for a criminal."

The man stuck out his umbrella and aimed it at the younger Zenigata. Koichi backed up as the man began thrashing him with the object. "I say, this country is nothing but a boorish place for barbarians and this is the last straw. If this is how the local law enforcement behaves then your superior shall hear from me!"

"Listen sir," Koichi began, but the man continued to rant and rave pushing the taller sergeant with his umbrella this time backing him into a door. Absently, Koichi began to finger the knob.

The elderly man continued. "If your superior hears that you have been harassing poor victims, your badge will be forfeit! Do you hear me, forfeit?"

"I hear you," Koichi mumbled pulling open the door to the private compartment and falling into it. He moaned in pain as the back of his head slammed against the door.

"Are you alright my son?" a quiet voice asked. Koichi glanced up to see a middle aged priest look down on him with a concerned look on his face. Across from him a small boy dressed in a black novice uniform looked at him curiously. "I am fine," Koichi sad as the priest helped him rise. "I am looking for someone."

"Oh who?" The priest asked concerned. Koichi looked closely at the man just to be sure, but he had a long black beard and bushy black hair including his eyebrows. His face had a ruddy complexion and he didn't carry himself like an old man. Just to be sure, Koichi glanced at the boy. He had shaggy dark hair and tanned skin, possibly Italian. Though he had the same build as Arsene Lupin's grandson, he also hunched over as though he had a spinal condition. Neither of these two were them and he didn't want to make the same mistake again, plus if they were on another train not this one he would be wasting time and the train was scheduled to move in 20 minutes.

"My name is Sgt. Zenigata from Interpol," he showed them his badge. "I am looking for two people."

He showed the priest and the boy the pictures. "Surely Interpol has better things to do with its time than go after this boy?" the priest asked. He spoke to the boy in the seat across from him in another language and the boy answered back.

"Would he understand me if I spoke to him?" Koichi asked.

The priest answered sadly. "No, I am afraid not. He speaks only Italian. Giancarlo's parents were killed in an earthquake and he has been with us ever since. I am taking him to Our Lady Madonna Church in Italy where he will begin his seminary studies."

"I am sorry to hear that," Zenigata said. "Actually, the boy in this picture hasn't done anything that we know of. His parents committed a terrible crime last night and we believe that he is traveling with a man who may be his grandfather who is also a criminal."

The priest shook his head. "It is truly a shame when the parents sin, it is the children that suffer."

Koichi nodded. "Yes exactly." For some reason he thought of the night before when his father shot down Midori Lupin. He shuddered not wanting to think anymore about it or about himself shooting Arsene Lupin II. "Have you seen either of them Father-?"

"Oh, Father Feliciano," the priest replied. "No I cannot say that I have, but I will ask Giancarlo. He has a better memory for such things." He spoke in Italian to the boy and after a long conversation, the priest nodded. "Yes, he said that he saw a man and boy with that exact description entering Train 52. He remembered them because he spoke to the boy for awhile. I guess that boy could speak Italian as well. He seemed nice but nervous and frightened, he said."

Koichi glanced at his watch. Train 52! That was scheduled to embark after this one. He had better get off if he was going to catch it. "Damn, I had better go. Thank you Father." Even though he wasn't Catholic, Koichi enjoyed talking to the man. His voice had a warm soothing tone and he seemed to have one of those instinctive airs that made someone feel welcome no matter what their religion.

"You're welcome, my son," he said. "Godspeed on your search. I hope you find that boy and set him right."

"I will, Father," Koichi promised standing up and leaving the train.

Koichi approached the final steps and just about ran into his father. "What are you doing, Koichi?" he asked.

The sergeant nodded at the direction of the train as it sounded the final bell for embarking. "I couldn't find either Lupin or his grandson, but I have a tip from one of the passengers that they were on Train 52."

Zenigata shook his head. "No they weren't."

"Yes, they were," Koichi argued. "I am heading over there."

"I just came from there and they were not on that train," Zenigata replied. "The only people on that train were several schoolgirls and their form mistresses heading for some retreat."

"But the priest said-" Koichi began, but then stopped realizing it was useless and knew why it was useless. "LUPPINNN!" Both police officers said in unison.

"We have to call someone to stop that train," Zenigata commanded. He moved to alert the guard when he hear a distinctive annoying beep. He groaned picking up his intercom and called "Zenigata here," Koichi watched as his father suddenly paled and answered with a few "uh huhs" and "yes sirs." When he hung up, the inspector was almost red with shame. "That was the superintendent," he said. "We are to report to headquarters immediately for reassignment. Apparently, they received an anonymous tip on my 'handling of the situation'. Did you call them?"

He glared accusingly at his son, "No O-tisan," Koichi replied.

"They will pay for this," Zenigata yelled, but his son held him back.

"Father, we have the paintings or we will, Lupin and his wife are dead." He reasoned. "We have no proof that Lupin's father or their son were involved in the robbery except briefly seeing the boy at the scene. Even if we bring him in, we will be the laughing stocks of Interpol. We did what we set out to do. The rest is a lost cause. Besides I have a feeling there will be other times."

Zenigate grumbled but he sagged in defeat. "You're right. Let's go find out what they want."

"Besides I have a wedding to prepare for," Koichi reminded him. His father walked away when his son held up one finger. "Could you wait a minute, there is something I would like to do." Zenigata nodded as Koichi stole away in the crowd. He turned a corner amongst the large crowd. When he was sure, that he was free of any prying eyes or his father's suspicion. He walked into a booth and dialed a number. He spoke with a lump in his throat. "Hello Cemetaire De Maison. I would like to request a burial, well two burials actually. The bodies are at the mortuary for now. I shall have them delivered myself. Yes, in the Lupin family plot please."

Still in the priest's disguise, Lupin waited until the train rolled from the station and he could no longer see the platform, before he removed the hot bushy beard and wig. Arsene did the same and wiped off the stage makeup tossing the items to his grandfather. "That was an easy escape, non? I hope my phone call to Interpol will not cause our two policemen to lose their jobs." He expected an answer from his grandson but instead the boy stared silently out the window. Arsene's posture sagged and his body deflated like a balloon. Lupin realized that Arsene had been awake for the past 28 hours, taking part in the theft and escaping with his grandfather. The boy hadn't had a real moment to think about his parents' deaths. Lupin began to feel a lump form in his own throat and tears coming to his eyes at the thought of Jean's and Midori's loss.

"When Mama and Papan went on their robberies," Arsene said his voice sounding strangled with his crying. "They would sometimes leave me in the hotels and I would wait for them to come back. I sort of hope, if we go to the hotel they will be there waiting for me ready to show me what they stole. But-" He put his head in his hands and tried to hold back his emotions. "Is it okay to grieve for them now?"

Touched, Lupin allowed the tears to fall down his face as he pushed himself next to his grandson. "Of course it is," he said softly. He firmly, but gently put his arm around Arsene's shoulder and held him close. The boy relaxed next to his grandfather locked in Lupin's hug, his face buried in the elderly man's chest. Lupin rocked the boy back and forth and whispered words of comfort. His priest costume was wet with the boy's tears, but he smoothed Arsene's hair back and kissed the top of his forehead.":Would you like to hear a story?" he asked. Still leaning against his grandfather the boy nodded. He loved hearing his grandfather's stories. Sometimes they were of his exploits when he was a young man doing his most infamous cases. Others were of fellow thieves, like A.J. Raffles, an Englishman whom Lupin once considered a rival and a competitor, but always a good friend. Others were tales of tricksters. Arsene loved hearing these Trickster stories, especially ones like his favorite character, Reynard the Fox, who would take advantage of the stupid people in charge. "Let me think, did I tell you about the time that I broke into the Castle of Cagliostro?" he asked knowing full well that he had many times. The boy nodded waiting for the tale. "Well it happened when I was a young man, younger even than your father. I was approached by this woman-" He continued telling the story, even though exhaustion and grief overwhelmed Arsene so that he fell asleep nestled in his grandfather's arms.


End file.
